


Mood Board Fic: Full Moon

by Venhedish



Series: Originally Posted on Tumblr [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blood, Child Death, Dark, Ficlet, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:08:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29814435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venhedish/pseuds/Venhedish
Summary: The monster was a boy this time, barely old enough to drive.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Originally Posted on Tumblr [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2107026
Kudos: 6





	Mood Board Fic: Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

> I sometimes make mood boards and then write little ficlets inspired by them. This is one such ficlet. You can find others that don't end up on my AO3 [here at my Tumblr. ](https://venhedish.tumblr.com/search/moodboard+fic)

  


  


The monster was a boy this time, barely old enough to drive. That didn’t stop Sam from killing it – from coating his hands in the gouting stream of child's blood, the silver of his knife anathema to a feral heart. It didn’t stop him from pulling its head back, razor teeth still gnashing blindly at the flesh of his brother, and snapping the neck like a wolf with a rabbit in its jaws.

It didn’t stop him from thrilling at the rage that came, the ever-present blade of it cutting under the surface of his skin. Dark red slickness smeared across Dean’s hands as Sam helped him to his feet, shaking and wild. It didn’t stop Sam from shoving his brother into the rough wall of the alley where the body of a dead boy lay steaming in the night. His hands—so red—touched all the parts of Dean where the mouth of the monster had been, urgent and possessive. “Are you hurt? Did it bite you?” 

His brother said no, tried in vain to bat away his hands— _so red, so wet_ —turning everything they touched dark and cloying with the reek of violence. But the need to feel, to claim, throbbed like a second heart inside Sam, and he wouldn’t have been able to stop even if he’d wanted to.

His teeth weren’t dog-sharp, but they could still leave marks far deeper than the skin.

The moon hung expectant and swollen above them—he imagined the pull of it against the rushing tide of his blood—and he _did. not. stop._

  



End file.
